Winter Before Spring
by SweetSinger2010
Summary: Sabine Wren is the only person in the entire karking rebellion who's actually happy they're relocating to an ice planet, and Hera can't stand it. Star Wars Fictober Challenge Day 8: Winter.


A/N: Fictober Day 8: Winter. This isn't very good, but I decided that if I'm going to write fics for this challenge, I'm darn well going to post them. Bear with me, y'all. Also I'm on tumblr now as dreamsofstardust10. What blogs should I follow? PM me!

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Winter Before Spring

Everyone is relieved to have a proper base again—floating in deep space gets old fast—but Sabine Wren is the only person in the _entire karking rebellion_ who's actually _happy_ they're relocating to an ice-planet.

She's part of the team assigned to recon Hoth and she comes back and gives her report with an enthusiasm that not even Hera Syndulla understands. The Twi'lek general—who seems to wear a near-permanent frown these days—is worried that it signifies a failure to cope with…everything. She watches Sabine carefully, anxiously, fearfully. Hera's not sure she can handle another loss, and she dreads the moment that Sabine will break, or get killed, or decide to leave.

None of it happens.

As the Alliance busies itself preparing Echo Base for operation, Hera notices this about Sabine: she looks _well._ She's gained some weight back, no longer looking gaunt. There's color in her hair and paint on her hands again for the first time in eighteen months. Her eyes are sharp and focused and she works at every assigned task with vigor.

And she goes outside _on purpose_.

Out of curiosity, Hera accompanies Sabine on duty one day. Their objective: set up a radar array five klicks to the east. Fuel rations are low, so instead of taking the _Phantom,_ they get an early start and ride out on taun-tauns. It's a nice day, as far as days on Hoth go. There's no wind, it's a little warmer than sub-zero, and the snow falls softly. Still, Hera would rather be indoors. On their way back to base, she glances over and notices the Mandalorian isn't riding beside her. She's a few yards back and she's climbing down from her taun-taun. She's almost knee-deep in snow, but she's _smiling._

" _Sabine!"_ All this time, Hera's been worried that Sabine would be the one to break, and now she's pretty close to it herself as she spins her taun-taun around and dismounts. "What are you _doing?_ "

The younger woman exhales, her breath hanging in the air. She slips her hood off and snowflakes cling to her scalp. "Just…watching the snow."

There's a silence while stunned Hera tries to think of something to say to that. Outside, away from the business of the base, she realizes just how desolate and empty Hoth really is.

She realizes just how desolate and empty _she_ feels.

Maybe Hera resents Sabine's ability to enjoy the constant awful weather, maybe she's envious of the inner balance the human girl seems to have found, or maybe Hoth's cold has settled deep in her bones and extinguished the warmth which used to reside in her. Whatever the reason, Hera's suddenly angry.

"What's _with_ you lately?" She's nearly shouting and Sabine is visibly taken aback. "Can you honestly tell me you're happy with all this?"

 _All this_ refers to a lot more than the ice and snow, Sabine knows. She brushes her damp bangs from her eyes before she answers. "I'm getting there."

Hera's mouth falls open. Her mind is screaming, _How? How are you okay?_ But she says bitterly, "You know that most beings on most planets dislike winter, right? It's symbolic of death and loss. It's symbolic of the end. You get that, don't you?"

"Yes." Sabine wades over and puts her gloved hand in Hera's, which is surprising because neither of them is particularly touchy-feely. "But winter comes before spring. New life blooms in the spring." She squeezes Hera's hand. "Losing Kanan and Ezra—I have to believe that's the worst it gets for us, Hera. We just have to be patient."

Hera blinks back tears, struck to the core by this newfound wisdom and optimism in Sabine. "That doesn't explain your fascination with the snow," she says thickly.

Sabine laughs, turning back to mount her taun-taun. "Well yeah, it sucks there's so much of it." Hera smiles a little, because _that_ sounds like the old Sabine. "But just _look_ at it!" The Mandalorian continues, grinning. "The whole word—a blank canvas _every single day._ "

Suddenly, Hera imagines every square inch of Hoth covered in Sabine's paintings, and that brings a real smile to her eyes. She repeats the words to herself, _winter comes before spring_ , and she feels her heart begin to thaw.


End file.
